


Between the Lines

by Girlblunder



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:27:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29523624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girlblunder/pseuds/Girlblunder
Summary: Jaina is a tired doctoral candidate trying to make a decision about a relationship past its expiration date.When she hears about famous tattoo artist Sylvanas Windrunner, curiosity takes her down a path she never expected.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner
Comments: 20
Kudos: 182





	Between the Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings from a cold, powerless part of Texas. I started this before things became this way, and before I knew it I was continuing by hand and uploading via my phone. This was inspired by [this tweet.](https://tinyurl.com/1o1ztr7q)
> 
> This is a bit indulgent, but that's the beauty of writing your own fic. You can do whatever you want.
> 
> Apologies for any weird formatting, but ya know, unfamiliar with phone posting. Pay attention to the tags and I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

It was a beautiful day in Dalaran, the sky clear and a pleasant spring breeze keeping the temperature near perfection. At least, that’s what Jaina had thought that morning when she’d convinced herself not to stay cooped up all day among musty books.

Rather than being holed away in the Library of Dalaran or the smaller, niche Sisters Sorcerous, Jaina was seated at one of the patio tables of The Legerdemain Lounge. Several books were sprawled haphazardly over the table, a thick sheaf of papers partially wedged under one. The breeze was nice, Jaina noted, unless one were trying to keep errant documents from escaping.

“Your coffee,” the waiter said.

Jaina nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t look away from _The Principles of Advanced Transmutation Volume III_. After finishing the passage she was on, she sat back with a frown, tucking a denim-clad leg under her thigh. She’d been distracted of late, and had come back to the same sections several times as she tried to unravel their mysteries. Her theories had merit. She was _close_.

With a grunt, she reached for her backpack. She hadn’t closed it properly when she set it down, and a variety of things tumbled out when she pulled it up by a strap. Muttering under her breath, she bent to collect the folders, pens, and… she stared down at the velvet box with a scowl. She wasn’t sure why she’d been carrying it everywhere.

Briefly, she contemplated opening it. She grabbed it and shoved it back to the bottom of her bag.

Still scowling, she sat back in her chair and sighed. As if she didn’t have enough on her mind. Her eyes absently trailed across the street, and she willed herself not to look at the glass front between Langrom’s Leather and The Arsenal.

She chewed her lower lip and reached for her coffee. Her willpower had its limits; she examined the storefront from under her lashes. Inkhaven blended in with the other shops on this side of Dalaran, the same pristine white stone prevalent in all the city, though aged more than the newer sections.

There were numerous cafes and restaurants near the University of Dalaran—and yet every nice day for the last month, Jaina had trekked halfway across town for The Legerdemain Lounge.

She discreetly checked her watch and returned her gaze to the tattoo parlor. It had been open for some time, but…

On cue, a lanky woman turned the corner. Jaina forced herself to drink from her coffee cup as she watched the blonde Quel'dorei progress down the sidewalk. Even in ripped jeans and a snug white cotton shirt, Jaina’s eye was naturally drawn to her.

Jaina mouthed the lip of her mug as her attention drifted down sinewy arms, wishing she were closer to inspect the ink covering both. The left was bursting with color: oranges, yellows, and reds in a connected pattern she still hadn’t quite identified. The right (which was closer to Jaina) was in more traditional black lines. At this range Jaina thought they resembled winding, twisting branches left bare of leaves.

The woman’s face seemed severe up until she reached the door and another Quel'dorei with tattoos climbing up her neck opened it to greet her. They smiled at one another, and Jaina pretended she wasn’t envious when the second woman placed an elegant hand on the first’s shoulder and guided her in.

Jaina drank deeply of her mug, then set the coffee down as she contemplated the empty sidewalk. Sylvanas Windrunner. She’d never voiced the name out loud, and had only become consciously aware of it through text.

***

_One Month Ago_

She knew it was going to be a bad day from the moment she woke up. Rather than the warm clutter of her apartment, it took her a bleary moment to recognize the cold neatness of Arthas’ guest room. She scowled at the wall, wishing she’d have just gone home the night before. Arthas had apologized profusely and begged her not to leave while angry.

Her eyes lit upon the black velvet box sitting ominously on the nightstand. She still wasn’t sure why some women found public proposals so damn romantic. Rather than delight, she’d been embarrassed to have an entire restaurant full of people staring and waiting for her response. In the end, she’d accepted the box but hadn’t allowed him to put the ring on her hand. Not a promise, but enough to appease the eyes of strangers.

They’d talked about this. She wanted to finish work on her dissertation before she’d even consider marriage, especially since she and Arthas had rarely seen one another since she’d become a doctoral candidate. She’d been all across Azeroth doing research and giving lectures for the last several months, and had capitulated to the request for a romantic dinner on her second night back out of a sense of obligation more than anything.

She should have gone home.

Gentle tapping at the door made her heave a sigh. “Yes?” she called out.

“Breakfast is ready,” came the muffled response.

Jaina glowered at the door, not sure she wanted to even look at him. Her stomach protested, and she sighed again. After the proposal she’d been unable to eat much of her overpriced meal.

She got dressed and snuck into the master bath to steal her toothbrush, preferring the privacy of the one near the guest room for her morning routine.

“Don’t think I’ve forgiven you,” she announced when she eventually stormed into the kitchen.

Arthas smiled from his position in front of the stove, plating something and then setting it down on the table. “Of course not.” He was dressed impeccably in a blue tailored shirt that was tucked into dark slacks, his hair neatly styled out of his face.

Jaina scrubbed a hand over her old jeans, still preferring them over the dress she’d worn the night before. Her old University of Dalaran sweater had seen better days, but it was a favorite. She’d be glad to have it home, having thought she’d lost it months ago.

It irritated her how calm he was, as if the source of her anger was so easily dismissed. She softened only slightly when she saw he’d made her favorite hot buttered trout and crispy potatoes. It reminded her she needed to squeeze in a trip back to Kul Tiras before her family disowned her.

She could almost hear her mother’s voice. _“One of the most skilled mages in transmutation and she can’t be bothered to form a single portal home_.” It made her smile as she began eating. She ignored Arthas as he sat opposite her, a cup of coffee and the newspaper the only thing he brought.

Halfway through the contents of her plate, she was startled when Arthas suddenly slammed the paper down onto the table. “That bitch!” he hissed just before he stood up and stalked off in the direction of his home office.

Jaina tilted her head curiously and set her knife and fork down to pick the paper up. _Local Artist Donates Enormous Sum to Ongoing Relief Efforts in Lordaeron_ , the front page headline read. She frowned. Surely, that couldn’t be what angered Arthas. Lordaeron had been his home before the Cataclysm, and he’d often spoken of how he’d missed the city from its glory days.

She skimmed the extensive article, wondering if Sylvanas Windrunner had been the specific subject of his curse. She squinted at the name. Windrunner was a vaguely familiar surname, but she’d never had a mind to keep up with intercontinental politics. She left that to her mother and brother Derek, content with her magical studies.

With a shrug, she began going through the rest of the paper. If she were going to visit home, her mother would expect her to have a cursory knowledge of the world beyond her studies. A small blurb at the bottom of the front page made her frown again, and she hurriedly turned to page six.

She blanched and stared down at the announcement. “Arthas!” she shouted as she, too, pushed up from her chair and slammed the paper down.

In much smaller print than on the front, accompanied by a blurry photo she couldn’t remember taking, was a small article declaring that the former prince Arthas Menethil and second-in-line for the Kul Tiran Admiralty Jaina Proudmoore were engaged.

***

_Present_

Her anger still returned in bursts, but she set it aside. Her thesis was more important than Arthas and his alleged hurt feelings; he’d been lucky she hadn’t ended things on the spot.

They were on a break, and she hadn’t budged once despite the gifts he’d had delivered to her apartment. With a sigh, she returned to her books.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been when a gentle voice spoke to her right.

“Excuse me. It’s rather full here. Would you mind if I sat for a few minutes?”

Jaina finished writing her thoughts down and peered to the side. She blinked and her heart sped up. It wasn’t Sylvanas, but the other Quel'dorei she’d seen. “Please,” she said as she hurried to move some of her books, “take a seat.”

“Thanks,” the Quel'dorei said with a broad smile as she did just that. “Lenara,” she said by way of introduction.

“Jaina,” Jaina returned after a slight hesitation. She offered the woman a tight smile as she tried not to stare. Rather than Sylvanas’ long, flowing golden hair, Lenara’s hair was like black silk that just reached past her shoulders.

Lenara’s smile widened almost imperceptibly. “Jaina. Good to put a name to the face. You come here a lot, don’t you?”

Mildly alarmed, Jaina sent her a furtive glance.

Lenara chuckled. “Relax. I work just across the street,” she gestured to Inkhaven, prompting Jaina to instinctively look in its direction.

“The tattoo place,” Jaina said as if she didn’t already know.

“What gave it away?” Lenara tilted her head up as if to show off the swirls of dark ink on her neck. She didn’t have the full sleeves like Sylvanas, but some additional art could be seen peeking out from under the short sleeves of her dark shirt.

Jaina shrugged, taking the question at face value. “I’ve seen you some, too.”

Lenara smacked her lips and nodded, raising a cardboard travel cup up to her lips. Jaina’s nose told her it was coffee. She returned her attention to her books.

“Do you have any?” Lenara asked after a pause.

“Hm?” Jaina blinked as she tried to process the question. “Any what?”

“Tattoos.” Lenara crossed her legs, an ankle hanging over her knee.

Jaina frowned at her. “No.”

“You interested in getting one?”

Her frown deepened. “Not really.”

When Lenara smiled again, there was something vaguely unsettling about it. “Forgive me for asking, it’s just I’ve noticed you look at our little shop a lot.”

Face warming, Jaina averted her eyes and played with the edge of a folder. “Perhaps I’ve given it a passing thought,” she lied.

Lenara perked up, her eyes bright and her smile once again wide. “I knew it. You should come in sometime, just to look around. No one will force you, but you’d be surprised to see the sorts of people that come in.” Lenara paused and leaned forward. “Archmage Rhonin, for one,” she said in a playful whisper.

Jaina sat back in her chair, genuinely surprised. “Really?”

“Yep.” Lenara sipped from her cup. “Sylvanas is truly talented.”

Knowing that mere consulting sessions with Sylvanas started at five thousand gold, Jaina pretended to absorb the information as if it were new. “And you?” she asked out of a sense of politeness.

“I’m getting there,” Lenara said mildly. She cleared her throat and sat up. “Well, my break’s about over. It was nice chatting with you, and I hope you stop by.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jaina hedged. “Nice to meet you.”

Lenara tilted her head, and then darted across the street after checking to make sure it was clear.

Jaina watched her go, only to bite her lip when she saw Sylvanas greet Lenara at the door. She ducked her head down when Lenara said something and gestured back her way, pretending to be engrossed in the nearest book.

Her heart pounded at the close call, and she shook her head at the absurdity of accepting Lenara’s invitation. She was only here out of curiosity, and needn’t ever actually enter Sylvanas Windrunner’s sphere of existence.

With that, she resolved her treks across Dalaran for sunshine were over.

***

By week’s end, Jaina found herself standing outside Inkhaven. She paced back and forth just out of sight of the windows, not wanting Lenara to pull her in before she was ready. Based on all her previous comings and goings, Sylvanas wouldn’t be there for hours. Entering was still a terrible idea.

A bell jangled above her head as she opened the door, almost making her jump. “Hello?” she asked as she walked inside. No one answered, and she turned to double-check the sign in front was flipped to ‘Open’. It was.

“Oh.” The parlor was bigger than it appeared, with black leather couches set perpendicular to one another in the entry area. The floor was smooth dark marble, the walls pale and covered with framed photos as far as she could see.

There was a simple counter bisecting the waiting area and a line of counters near specialized chairs where customers could sit while their tattoos were applied. A door in the back led somewhere unknown; Jaina hoped a more private section for art applied to more intimate areas.

With no one around and nothing to do, Jaina gave into her curiosity to approach one of the photo-laden walls.

As she suspected, they were of live tattoos, some healed, some fresh. All manner of people were in the images: trolls, orcs, gnomes, humans, and other elves. She paused when she got to a section full of skinny, yellow-and-green-tinged humans. Survivors of Lordaeron. She stared at them a long time, wondering why Arthas wouldn’t feel a kinship here. The only place hit nearly as badly by the Cataclysm had been Silvermoon.

She shook her head and moved on. The boy she’d developed feelings for as a teen seemed long gone.

Her breath caught when she reached another section. Here were the thick limbs and coarse features of her own people. She took in the section greedily until her eyes fell on a particular tattoo. A meticulously detailed Kul Tiran ship was cresting a wave, and Jaina was certain she’d seen one just like it moored in Boralus Harbor.

“A sailor chose it in memory of her first ship,” a low voice explained.

Jaina froze; that was not Lenara’s voice. She didn’t want to turn around. Words failed to form for a moment, and so she cleared her throat. “The detail is incredible.”

“Thank you.”

Her eyes flickered to the corner of the photo, confirming the flowing signature said Sylvanas Windrunner. Shit.

“Are you interested in getting one?”

“Oh,” Jaina turned without thinking and immediately lost her train of thought.

Sylvanas Windrunner was _painfully_ beautiful, the angular planes of her face somehow even more perfect than the average Quel’dorei. Her clear crystal-blue eyes almost seemed to glow as she looked down at Jaina.

Jaina tried not to stare at the loop in her left eyebrow, or the stud in her right nostril, or wonder what else might be pierced. Full lips formed a smirk, and Jaina tried to hold back a blush when Sylvanas raised the pierced eyebrow.

“Um.” She scrambled to remember what Sylvanas had asked. “No, not really.”

“No?” The second eyebrow rose to join the first, and Jaina swallowed convulsively when her eyes dropped and gave Jaina’s body a slow onceover. “Pity.”

Jaina felt electrified when their eyes met again.

“The sailor,” Sylvanas began again, still staring at Jaina, "was one of the few survivors of that crew.”

“The Cataclysm,” Jaina said as her hands balled into fists. That’s where she’d seen it before; she’d gone over the reports of ships lost in the Cataclysm what felt like hundreds of times.

Sylvanas searched her face for a moment, then took a step back. “Yes.”

Jaina found herself turning back to once again to admire the ship. She closed her eyes and imagined her father’s. It had been over a decade but she could still picture it, Daelin Proudmoore in uniform standing wide-legged on the quarterdeck.

“Do you get many Kul Tirans here?” she asked to fill the sudden silence.

“Some,” Sylvanas said after a pause.

“Many survivors?”

Sylvanas didn’t answer, and so Jaina twisted to face her once more.

“Some,” Sylvanas repeated with the tiniest of smiles.

“Do they often choose to memorialize it?” Jaina crossed her arms, hoping to receive more of an answer than ‘some’.

“People don’t come here for little hearts with arrows through them.” Sylvanas held up a hand before Jaina could protest the non-answer. “So, yes. Many choose to mark themselves so they can remember, most often, those they lost in those terrible days.”

Jaina studied her raised arm. This close she could see the bright lines were numerous leaves, no doubt from the famed Eversong Forest. On the underside of her forearm starting at the wrist was a large sun cradled in some leaves; a fingers-width away was a pale moon, followed by an even smaller moon.

Sylvanas dropped her arm when she noticed where Jaina was looking. “For someone uninterested in getting one, you certainly have a fascination with tattoos.”

“It’s art,” Jaina explained with a shrug. “Anyone can appreciate beauty.”

“Indeed.” Sylvanas tilted her head and glanced down at Jaina’s body once more.

The perusal made Jaina feel warm. As she floundered for something to say, the bell above the door jangled.

Lenara walked in, two travel cups in hand. She grinned when she spotted Jaina. “Hey! You pick one out yet?”

“She’s uninterested in getting one,” Sylvanas answered.

“What, why? Is it the pain?”

Jaina looked from Lenara to Sylvanas. “Not exactly.” She squinted at Lenara. “Didn’t you say there would be no pressure to get one?”

Lenara’s face scrunched up. “I think I said no one would force you. But, seriously, if you have nothing to do today, why don’t you hang out and see how the magic happens? It’s nothing to be scared of.”

“It’s not that.” Jaina frowned, trying to think of some reason she shouldn’t get a tattoo. Her eyes wandered back to the Kul Tiran ship. “I just haven’t really thought about it before.”

“So, will you hang out, then?” Lenara persisted as she walked over and handed Sylvanas one of the cups.

Jaina shifted her weight. “Would that even be okay?” She looked at Sylvanas.

“I see no problem with it,” Sylvanas said with a shrug. “I have a client coming in for an early session soon. He’s not shy, and I’m certain he’ll be delighted to have a pretty lady sitting in.”

Trying to ignore the passing compliment, Jaina found herself at an impasse. She’d set aside some time to socialize with Lenara anyway, hoping to learn more about Sylvanas. “I suppose I don’t see why I can’t stay. For a while.”

Lenara bounced in place, somehow balancing her cup in such a way that it didn’t slosh and spill. “Great. Want me to run out and grab you a coffee, too?”

Already antsy from nerves, Jaina shook her head. “That’s quite alright. I try to limit my caffeine intake when I’m not working.”

“In that case, excuse me. I have some final preparations to make before Agrak gets here.” Sylvanas bent slightly at the waist and walked toward the door in the back.

“And you can keep me company while I get a spot set up for her out here.” Lenara pointed to one of the padded mechanical chairs. “I can’t wait for you to see her work.”

Jaina found herself smiling. “You seem to be a big fan.”

“Oh, heck yeah. I happily bent over backwards to get this apprenticeship. Just you wait.”

***

Some time became a few hours, and then most of the day. Watching Sylvanas (and Lenara) work was, in a word, mesmerizing. Sylvanas spent most of the morning detailing a battle scene on the chest of a very friendly orc named Agrak, while Lenara did some smaller pieces on a human and gnome, respectively.

Jaina was drawn the most to observing Sylvanas. Even in thin protective gloves, her elegant hands at work were distracting. Beyond the confident way her long, finely shaped fingers moved, Jaina was just as drawn to studying what she could see of Sylvanas’ own tattoos.

The duality of the full sleeves was interesting, the full, lush leaves and the mirror of decaying branches probably having some underlying meaning beyond the obvious. She wished she knew more Thalassian, because she spotted an instance of it in both sets of branches near the insides of Sylvanas’ elbows. A mystery for another day, if she could remember what the script looked like.

She took breaks when both Lenara and Sylvanas did, surprised at how quickly the hours passed.

“Will you eat with us?” Sylvanas asked as she cleaned up her station.

Jaina, having just seen Agrak off with a smile, wasn’t ready for the question. “Oh, um.” She checked her watch and shook her head, knowing there was little point in heading to the library. “Sure. I’m famished.”

“Great. Let me finish up here, then we’ll close up the shop for a while.”

Throughout the day they’d engaged in idle chat, and Jaina had learned, among other things, that Sylvanas owned a chain of tattoo parlors, all operated by fellow Quel’dorei she’d mentored.

Agrak had laughed heartily when she’d inquired about the cost of Sylvanas’ time while escorting him to the door, and she could only conclude scenes as detailed as his cost an obscene amount of gold. He certainly seemed to think the end result was worth it.

“I’m ready.”

Lost in her thoughts, it took her a moment to realize they were alone. “Where’s Lenara?”

Sylvanas waited for her to exit first, then pulled the door closed behind them to lock up. “She went to pick up our food.”

Jaina wondered why they hadn’t asked what she liked, but didn’t inquire. If she didn’t like what Lenara brought, she’d just eat something at home. She paused and remembered she hadn’t been to the store in a week. Well, conjured food could tide her over for another day.

“I told her to get a variety of things,” Sylvanas explained once she’d finished activating the wards. “A place specializing in Vulperian cuisine opened in the commerce district. It’ll be an experience for all of us.”

In her travels, Jaina had tried foods from many different cultures. She bit her lip and peered at Sylvanas. “I hope you like spicy food.”

Sylvanas chuckled and began walking; Jaina knew from the time she’d spent subtly watching Sylvanas that she was shortening her strides so Jaina could keep up.

“I enjoy many things, Jaina.”

Her intonation nearly made Jaina blush. Though she’d encountered all manner of elves at the university, the silver-tongued Quel’dorei took the most getting used to.

Arthas had been insanely jealous of her friendship with a Quel’dorei woman she’d met her sophomore year. She’d never told him of the night she and Valeera had gotten blind drunk and woke up topless; it had been harmless fun that neither remembered.

A light hand at her elbow guided her to the short-range teleporter room, and Jaina noted with interest that Sylvanas had chosen one that led to the edge of the Crystalsong Forest.

The buildings weren’t as close together here, but well-spaced and meant to complement the eerie splendor of the nearby forest.

“A reminder that beauty can sometimes be found in destruction,” Sylvanas said with a nod to the closest floating purple-white tree.

Jaina hesitated, then added, “And that we need to be careful not to disturb the balance of things too much.”

Sylvanas nodded but continued up the dirt path, which was lined with normal elms and oak, as well as shrubs that seemed wild but contained. Eventually the path revealed a cottage, smaller than Jaina had anticipated.

She reflexively compared it to Arthas’ luxurious condo in the city and wondered how much more might be spared for Lordaeron if he lived half as simply. It was perhaps unfair, though Jaina couldn’t think of a reason why.

The trip, including the time it took for Sylvanas to open the cottage up, only took about fifteen minutes. The teleportation system had done wonders to make Dalaran more affordable and convenient, and Jaina felt a small sense of pride at having been involved in the project.

The cottage interior was bright, decorated in warm colors with plush, Quel’dorei-styled furniture. The floor was smooth grey stone, but several thick rugs had been strategically placed for comfort.

“On tranquil days like this, it’s customary to eat dinner outside. Is that acceptable?”

“That sounds lovely,” Jaina agreed with a nod.

A small smile played at Sylvanas’ lips. “There’s a half-bath just before the kitchen there if you need to freshen up. I’m going to do the same upstairs.”

It wasn’t until she was looking at herself in the mirror that it hit Jaina; she was in Sylvanas Windrunner’s home. When she’d looked the woman up in a sense of defiance, she hadn’t really had any plans to do anything about it. Indulging her initial curiosity had only made things worse. It had grown the more she watched Sylvanas, wondering if she felt the same animosity towards Arthas.

If she did, _why_?

Knowing she wouldn’t find answers in the bathroom, Jaina hurriedly finished washing her hands and patted them dry. Her breath caught when she wandered out. Sylvanas had exchanged her plain cotton t-shirt for a loose crop top, baring her fit stomach and lower back to Jaina’s too-interested gaze. Long blonde hair had been pulled up into a high tail, revealing a tattoo of what seemed to be elaborate wings on the back of her neck.

Sylvanas’ ears twitched. “Lenara is setting up outside. We should join her.”

“Sure.” Jaina fell into step beside her, trying to seem casual as she took a closer look at the neck tattoo.

“It’s a replica of my mother’s ceremonial bow.”

Jaina forced herself to look forward. “It’s beautiful.”

“Don’t be embarrassed to look. Each of my tattoos represents an important person or story of my life. It’s an honor for them to be remembered.”

“I’m afraid I’d stare at you too much with an invitation like that,”Jaina said with a laugh.

They’d stopped in front of a door that Jaina assumed was an alternate exit. Sylvanas moved closer to grip the door handle, coming close enough that Jaina imagined she could feel the heat of her body.

“Quel’dorei are notoriously vain. I am no exception.” She glanced at Jaina's mouth, then back up to her eyes. “Stare all you wish. I will do the same.”

Jaina worried her swallow was as audible as it seemed. Sylvanas merely smiled and pulled the door open, revealing nothing.

***

Jaina found her way back to Inkhaven several evenings that week, resulting in a few more dinners shared at Sylvanas’ home. The more she was around Sylvanas, the more some desire she refused to name grew.

“Say that I might be interested in a tattoo after all. How much would it cost to have Lenara do a ship like the one in the picture?” Jaina asked on one such day when Lenara had stepped out to find them dinner.

Sylvanas, who had been cleaning her tattoo machine, stopped moving. She shot Jaina a narrow-eyed look. “Lenara?”

Jaina ignored how pleased she was with Sylvanas’ obvious displeasure. “I couldn’t possibly afford your time.”

“Nonsense. You’re a student and a friend. I’d be happy to give you your first.”

Disregarding the vague innuendo of the statement, Jaina raised an eyebrow at her. “I’d insist on paying.”

Sylvanas put the tattoo machine down and stood to her full height, coming to stand before Jaina. Jaina, who was still sitting, felt her mouth go dry as she looked up at Sylvanas. Ripped jeans and plain shirts should never look so good on _anyone_.

She vaguely registered that Sylvanas was frowning down at her. “You’d insult me by refusing my gift. Do you wish to insult me, Jaina?”

Jaina laughed. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit dramatic?”

“Me?” Sylvanas failed to hide a smile by pursing her lips. “Never.” She sat back down and continued her cleaning. “Who’d you lose?” she eventually asked.

The question made Jaina suck in a breath. “My father. He went out to help with rescue and retrieval when the second day calmed.” The worst of the raging storms had hit on the third day. They’d had no way of knowing. “We never saw his ship again.”

“Sometimes the not knowing is the worst,” Sylvanas acknowledged in a low voice. “We will make a fitting homage to honor him.”

“Thank you.”

Sylvanas gently cleared her throat. “I have a talent for recreating things from memory, but if you have any pictures you’d like to use, that would expedite things.”

Jaina glanced at her watch. “If I hurry, I can beat Lenara back from fetching dinner.”

“Then, please do so. I’ve been looking forward to marking you since you first walked in here.”

Disregarding the thrill that traveled down her spine, Jaina sighed and stood up. “You’re incorrigible.”

Sylvanas raised her eyebrows and let her eyes trail slowly over Jaina’s body. “I don’t know what you mean.” Her expression grew serious. “If it truly bothers you, Jaina, all you need do is say the word, and I’ll stop.”

In the growing silence, Jaina’s face slowly heated up. A broad grin bloomed on Sylvanas' face.

Not wanting to admit her embarrassment, Jaina rolled her eyes and turned on her heel in a huff.

Sylvanas’ deep laughter followed in her wake.

*

At dinner, Jaina was surprised when Sylvanas got up, retrieved a pen and paper, and began to sketch. An artistic rendition of her father’s ship took shape before her very eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” Jaina said when Sylvanas slid the sketch over.

Sylvanas’ smile was small but genuine. “I’m glad you think so.”

Jaina stared down at it in awe. After a moment, she tried to give it back.

“Keep it,” Sylvanas said with a shake of her head. “I already know what it looks like here.” The last was said with a light tap to her temple.

Lenara, who Jaina had all but forgotten, grinned and leaned over the table. “That’s probably worth something, you know. It isn’t every day that a fo—”

“Lenara,” Sylvanas cut in. “Would you mind hurrying back and setting up for us?” She paused and looked at Jaina. “Do you know where you want it?”

Jaina blinked slowly. “What, you mean tonight?”

Sylvanas tilted her head. “I’m booked solid for the next few days. I’d like to get the basic line work done at the very least. Is that a problem?”

At a loss, Jaina could only shake her head. “No, that should be fine." She bit her lip as she considered the original question. She held a hand over her lower right rib cage. “I was thinking here. This is for me, no one else.”

“So it is.” Sylvanas shot Lenara a pointed look.

Lenara’s grin remained in place as she stood. “As my lady commands,”she joked.

Jaina bid her farewell, feeling suddenly anxious when she and Sylvanas were left alone together.

“Nervous? Don’t be.” Sylvanas nudged the back of her hand with her own. “Even though it seems like we’re moving fast, I promise you can still change your mind. And,” Sylvanas’ brow furrowed with her frown. “Tattoos can always be removed.”

Jaina eyed Sylvanas’ hand, which was still resting close to hers, but not touching. She gave into the compulsion to move hers closer, lightly brushing soft skin as she willed herself to meet Sylvanas’ lingering regard. “I might be nervous, but I know what I want.” Unable to stop herself, her attention fell to Sylvanas’ full, smirking mouth.

“Good.” Sylvanas’ gaze steadied on her face before falling to her lips. Jaina’s heartbeat accelerated; her blue eyes almost seemed to glow in their intensity. “You have a little,” Sylvanas’ warm thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. She pulled her hand back to reveal a small crumb.

Feeling a bit faint, Jaina shook her head and muttered, “Incorrigible.”

Sylvanas’ warm, throaty laughter filled the room. “Come,” she said with eyes still bright with mirth as she stood. “Lenara has had enough time to prepare for us.”

*

Jaina tried to maintain her composure as they arrived at Inkhaven. The shops surrounding it were dark, the warm lights inside welcoming despite Jaina’s nerves.

The overhead bell seemed extraordinarily loud as they opened the door. It wasn’t until they were a few steps in that Jaina noticed two very important things. Lenara was nowhere to be found, and most of the light was coming from the mysterious back door, which was open.

Sylvanas strolled toward it like nothing was amiss. She paused when she reached it. “You coming?” she inquired with a curious glance back at Jaina. She raised her eyebrows, then smiled. “Oh. Since you’ll need to take your shirt off and the front is all glass, Lenara probably thought you’d prefer the back room. We can work out here instead, if you like.”

Jaina attempted to swallow around the lump that had formed in her throat. Though most of the shops were closed in the area, The Legerdemain Lounge remained open and populated. “No,” she said as she took a few stuttering steps forward. “I would prefer the privacy.” She paused. “And where’s Lenara?”

A slight smile curled Sylvanas’ lips. “She had a date. Cute orc with tight muscles. Lenara was drooling the moment she saw her.” She turned and leaned back against the wall, then crossed her arms as she waited for Jaina. “Come now. I won’t bite.” Her smile widened.

Jaina couldn’t help but notice that when Sylvanas gave a full smile, her sharp canines protruded slightly over her lower lip. That Sylvanas had said ‘won’t’ rather than ‘don’t’ made Jaina’s mouth feel dry. She gamely moved forward.

The back room was spacious, numerous shelves and counters neatly storing all manner of things Jaina couldn't name. A large platform was off to one side, elevated and positioned to resemble a bed, with some adjustable lamps attached to it.

Sylvanas gestured to the platform, and then turned to fiddle with some drawers. “Please remove your shirt, though you’re welcome to cover your upper torso with it once you’ve gotten comfortable.”

Jaina understood that Sylvanas was affording her some additional privacy, and hurried to tug her shirt up and over her head. She climbed up onto the padded platform, wincing slightly at its coolness against her bare back as she covered her plain white bra with her shirt. “Ready.”

Back still turned, Sylvanas nodded. She scooted the rolling stool closer to Jaina and took a seat. For a moment, she searched for something, then held a wired remote up and began pushing buttons. The platform bent and angled some, leaving Jaina’s torso at a small incline.

Though Jaina had seen Sylvanas work many times, being the object of such singular focus was surreal.

“This might be a bit cold,” Sylvanas warned as she held up a clear bottle. At some point, she’d put on thin, protective gloves.

For the most part, Jaina was able to let her mind drift while Sylvanas did the preparatory cleaning. She braced herself when the humming of the tattoo machine (she’d called it a tattoo gun once and Sylvanas had scowled at the term) began. She held her breath and remained as still as possible. It wasn’t that bad. At first. Both Lenara and Sylvanas had warned their share of clients about the pain being worse near bone, but Jaina hadn’t understood until she experienced the contrast of first contact to that over her rib. Still, as Sylvanas’ hand moved and the machine hummed, Jaina didn’t allow herself to flinch.

“Good girl,” Sylvanas said in a low purr.

Jaina froze for an entirely different reason. She swallowed and tried to distract herself.

Sylvanas had tied her hair back into a loose bun that covered her neck tattoo, but Jaina found herself wishing she’d left it loose. She wanted to know how the silky strands felt tickling over the skin of her stomach. Jaina was rather bad at distracting herself.

Warm heat pooled in her abdomen and lower, nearly making Jaina squirm anyway. She wouldn’t, both so she wouldn’t give Sylvanas the satisfaction and for her own sense of personal pride.

“Do you need to do anything early tomorrow?” Sylvanas asked after a while.

Jaina considered the date, and if she were supposed to deliver any lectures the following day. Tomorrow was a Friday, which Jaina usually spent grading papers or attending to her own research. “No. Why do you ask?”

Sylvanas carefully dabbed at her ribs with a cloth, then looked up. “We could probably do this all tonight, if you want.”

“Hm.” Jaina frowned and studied her face. “What about you? Do you have anything early?”

“I never schedule anything too early.” Sylvanas didn’t move or speak for a moment. “Just before the Cataclysm, I moved to this little town named Brill. It’s mostly made up of humans with a vivid nightlife. It didn’t take me long to turn into something of a night owl.”

Jaina nodded, but her frown deepened. Her eyes widened. “Brill? Isn’t that right outside of—”

“Lordaeron? Yes,” Sylvanas confirmed.

Something clicked into place for Jaina. No wonder Sylvanas had made such an effort for the people of Lordaeron.

“So what do you think? Should we finish this tonight?” Sylvanas had resumed her work and didn’t look up. Jaina studied the graceful lines of her face, tracing the piercing in the aquiline nose one moment, and high cheekbones the next. She’d gotten another small glimpse into her, and wanted more. “Yes,” Jaina said. Her curiosity was dangerous. The sooner Sylvanas finished, the sooner Jaina could drift out of her life again. As much as Sylvanas had flirted, it had probably been for fun, rather than any compelling interest in Jaina. And, Jaina acknowledged with venom, she, herself, wasn’t completely unattached. Not yet.

“Are you going to fall asleep on me? You’ll wound my ego.”

Jaina wasn’t sure how long they’d been sitting, Sylvanas working almost tirelessly. She bit back a chuckle, still aware of the steady jabs of pain on her skin. “Please. I’m surprised Azeroth is big enough to accommodate that big, fat head of yours.”

Sylvanas grinned. “Bold of you to taunt someone who’s permanently marking your skin.”

“Ha. As we’ve already established, you take too much pride in your work to allow for anything less than perfection.”

“Well.” Sylvanas’ chuckled lightly, her warm breath dancing over Jaina’s stomach. “It seems you’ve got me all figured out.”

“Not at all. You’re still quite a mystery.”

“Then I suppose my reputation remains intact.”

There was a moment of silence, then Sylvanas changed the subject. They spoke of mundane things like Sylvanas’ favorite color (dark purple) and Jaina’s thoughts on traditional romantic gestures (impractical) for what must have been hours, but felt like moments too soon gone.

Before she knew it, Sylvanas was bandaging the tattoo and explaining the aftercare. “Don’t slack on taking care of it.” Sylvanas smoothed tape over the edge of the gauze. “Treat it like any wound to make sure it heals properly and without complication.” She held up a tin of salve. “And if you run out of this, I’ll happily supply you with more.”

Jaina bit her lip and nodded, awkwardly holding the shirt to her chest as she tried to sit up and swing her legs over.

Sylvanas, who had begun cleaning up by picking up discarded towels and wiping down the area, didn’t notice the movement until she lurched forward and nearly tumbled off the platform. “Whoa.” Sylvanas managed to catch her before she could really fall. “Take it easy. You were in the same position for quite a while and lost a bit of blood.”

The flash of pain Jaina experienced had already faded. She struggled to comprehend what Sylvanas was saying; her face was buried partially against Sylvanas’ neck, the elegant hands she’d been admiring for over a week pressed into her bare back. She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. Sylvanas smelled of something spicy. Foreign—and enticing. “Sorry.”

“No problem.”

Jaina straightened in increments, aware of both the healing skin of the tattoo and the solid, unmoving heat that was Sylvanas. Jaina tilted her head back to say something, only to forget when she found Sylvanas staring downward with great intensity. Her nostrils flared as Jaina watched, and Jaina followed her eyes down.

In her panic not to fall, she’d let go of her shirt. The tops of her breasts were visible, including a faint hint of color of her areolas. She blushed, feeling warm despite her naked torso.

She wasn’t sure who moved first, but from one heartbeat to the next, she knew exactly what Sylvanas’ mouth tasted like.

No sooner had the realization struck than Sylvanas was parting her lips as her hands fell to the back of Jaina’s ass, pulling their bodies closer. She released a soft gasp when firm hands guided her legs around Sylvanas’ hips, encouraging her to grind to her heart’s content.

She pulled her mouth free only when she heard a faint snapping sound; Sylvanas was hurriedly removing the protective gloves she’d worn while working. Jaina faintly chuckled, only to moan when those wonderful, bare hands were finally pressed to her skin. They kneaded and teased their way across Jaina’s back, searching for every spot that made her shiver.

Sylvanas’ mouth fell to her neck, hot and wet. Jaina groaned when teeth lightly scraped over her pulse point.

“Come home with me,” Sylvanas murmured against her skin.

There was a moment when Jaina acknowledged it was a terrible idea—she was no doubt little more than an average conquest for someone like Sylvanas, and Jaina still had that ring to get rid of—but Jaina found she didn’t care. Her life had always been about doing the right thing, following rules even when they were stupid and outdated, and Jaina was tired of being that woman.

“Yes,” she said and was rewarded with another deep, dizzying kiss.

The walk back to Sylvanas’ place, which she’d earlier considered quick, seemed excruciatingly long. They were on one another again once they hit the dirt path, as if those last several meters were simply too far.

Stumbling over one another as they kissed, they made it inside just before Sylvanas whipped her crop top off, her impatient hands dropping to yank her jeans off as quickly as possible. Jaina rushed to follow suit, but only managed to (slowly, painfully) get her shirt off.

“Beautiful,” Sylvanas growled as she took over removing Jaina’s jeans.

Jaina fell back against the door, holding her breath as Sylvanas began dropping kisses along her neck and collarbone—then fell to her knees.

Cool air alerted her to the fact that she’d been divested of her jeans and underwear. The coolness was soon replaced by the blazing heat of Sylvanas’ mouth.

Jaina struggled to remain upright, bracing one hand behind her against the door and sliding the other into the soft, silky hair she’d longed to feel against her fingertips. Her frustration built as the deft tongue avoided her most sensitive parts.

“Sylvanas,” she groaned, only to huff out a disgruntled chuckle when she felt Sylvanas smile. About to comment more, she lost all sense of reason when her clit was softly sucked into Sylvanas’ mouth and two wonderful, divine fingers entered her in one long stroke.

The sudden pleasure bordered on pain, and Jaina uncharacteristically cried out as a hard, deep orgasm took her by surprise. Sylvanas’ movements slowed, but didn’t cease. Pressure built once again, and Jaina’s knees buckled when the second orgasm hit. Sylvanas managed to steady her before she could fall, rising and kissing her once more. Jaina squeezed her arms around her neck, needing the closeness after such unexpected intensity.

A kiss was pressed to one cheek, then the other, before finally landing on her mouth again.

“I want to taste you,” Jaina confessed against her lips, envious with the smell of her own arousal.

“You will,” Sylvanas promised throatily, and then kissed her once more.

***

The following day when Jaina got home (very late), she sent the box back to Arthas with a note that simply said, “No. Never. We’re done.” She considered that maybe she was too harsh, but didn’t want to spare a moment for his feelings. He hadn’t bothered for hers in a long while unless he wanted something in return. Getting rid of the ring made her feel lighter and happier.

Lenara arrived at her apartment just after dusk, a broad grin on her face and a note in her hands. Sylvanas was inviting her to dinner, alone, at a later time than usual. Jaina didn’t think twice about agreeing. She bit her lip and played with her necklace as she remembered that very morning, waking up to kisses along the back of her neck. Sylvanas had then taken time to tend to her tattoo, saying she might as well since she knew how to care for it best.

Over the following several weeks, Sylvanas’ attentiveness for Jaina’s tattoo remained. It healed perfectly. Sylvanas invited her out many times. Jaina did her best to manage her expectations (they’d made no promises to one another) but, the more she found herself in Sylvanas’ bed (or found Sylvanas in hers), the more she found herself hoping that she and Sylvanas could be _something_ to one another.

When Sylvanas invited her out for a special evening at one of the nicest restaurants in town, Jaina knew she was done guessing. She would simply ask; it was better to know now, rather than wait and fall even further.

Despite her better judgement, she splurged on a new dress, giddy and hopeful. Sylvanas arrived in an elegant sleeveless dress with a high collar, the dark purple clinging delectably to her curves. “You look amazing.”

“As do you.” Sylvanas’ eyes traveled over her as if she hadn’t seen her naked countless times before. “Come,” Sylvanas coaxed with an extended hand. “We don’t want to be late for our reservation.”

Jaina smiled and accepted her hand. The moon was almost full, its bright light mingling with the streetlights. She considered speaking to Sylvanas then, but decided not to ruin the quiet magic of the moment.

Nearly half an hour later when they were seated at their table awaiting their food, Jaina realized she wouldn’t last the entire evening not knowing. “Sylvanas,” she broached in a lightly trembling voice. “There’s something I’d like to talk about.”

Sylvanas smiled and swallowed a mouthful of wine, then set her glass down. “Please, let me go first.” She leaned closer to Jaina and took her hand. “It’s why I invited you here, after all.”

Jaina’s heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest. She straightened her back and licked suddenly dry lips. “Okay.”

Sylvanas’ thumb began rubbing against the back of her hand. “Jaina, these last few weeks have been… fantastic. Never in all my years did I think something like this could happen.” She paused and Jaina held her breath. “Indeed, I never thought the man that had me banished from my own people—robbed me of them just before their greatest time of need—would have the guts to send his little slut of a fiancee along to milk me for information.”

A disgusted sneer curled Sylvanas’ lips. “Did you tell him about all our times together? Does he know how many times I’ve—”

Jaina raised a hand to slap her, only wishing for the pain and humiliation to end, but Sylvanas caught her hand before it could get far.

“Now, now, Jaina. Let’s not make a scene.”

Anger and sorrow warred for control in Jaina, and to her great frustration, the first of many tears slipped free. Jaina shook her head and found her voice. “You know, Sylvanas, if you were half as clever as you thought yourself, you’d know that not only did I never accept his proposal, but I broke things off with him for good weeks ago.” Jaina wanted to say more but her voice failed.

The briefest flicker of uncertainty loosened Sylvanas’ grip, and Jaina took it as an opportunity to free herself. The second Sylvanas was no longer touching her, Jaina summoned the strength to teleport home. It was cast too quickly, too abruptly, and Jaina fell to her knees and vomited the moment she arrived, tears still angrily falling. How foolish she’d been.

For what felt like ages, her mind raced as she recalled the numerous hours she’d spent with Sylvanas, wondering what signs she’d missed. She thought of the morning only days before, when Sylvanas had touched the necklace around her neck and wondered if it meant the same thing to Jaina as the sapphire she wore. They’d spoken of their families; Jaina, of her father, and Sylvanas of her sisters. Lies, probably, to… to… for something Jaina couldn’t imagine.

A small, naive part of her hoped that Sylvanas would arrive at any moment and say it had all been some dreadful mistake. When no knock came, Jaina took the longest shower of her life. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t scrub away her disgust with both Sylvanas and herself.

***

The next day there was still no word from Sylvanas, but she found she’d been issued a citation for using a high-level transmutation spell in an unauthorized area. A quick trip the Violet Citadel to show her credentials had the citation reduced to a warning. She was certain her advisor would be less than pleased to hear of it.

A week passed and Jaina only felt worse every day. If only Sylvanas had never stayed at her apartment, where she usually felt safest… but there was one place where she felt safer. She made the arrangements through official channels. Deciding against sending an enchanted mail first, Jaina decided her mother would prefer to simply see her face.

The morning after all the paperwork was approved, Jaina conjured a portal to Boralus Harbor. The moment the warm, salty air hit her face, Jaina knew she’d made the right decision. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply for what felt like the first time in days.

Excitement had her scurrying through the hallways of the drafty keep, her step growing lighter the closer she drew to the dining room, where her mother took her morning tea.

The door was open. She gripped her bag and stepped through. Porcelain clanked and her bag landed on the ground with a thump as her mother initiated a tight hug.

“What a wonderful surprise!” Katherine refused to let her go, causing Jaina to laugh and bury her face against the high collar of her mother’s uniform. She was home. “Derek and Tandred will be thrilled,” Katherine added.

Jaina hid a sniffle and smiled. “Me too, Mom.”

“How long will you be staying?” Katherine asked as she finally allowed the hug to end.

“I don’t know.” Jaina’s smile faltered under her mother’s scrutiny; Katherine always saw too much.

After a beat, Katherine smiled back. “Well, we’ll just keep you as long as we can, then.”

*

Over the course of the next several days, Jaina tagged along with her eldest brother when he took to the sea, assisted her mother with ceremonial duties, and teased her little brother about a pretty girl he’d begun dating.

She hardly thought of Sylvanas, and when she did, it was with an overwhelming sense of loss. She’d never had the taste for political machinations, preferring blunt, straightforward directness that had gotten her into trouble at Kul Tiran court more times than not. She tried to put the mess behind her, but she needed answers.

Contacting Sylvanas (or Arthas) was out of the question, and so after a week of debate, Jaina found herself in her mother’s personal library. It contained a large section devoted to history and documenting current events, and Jaina was comfortable with research. She stood before the arcane scroll that would help her find what she needed, closed her eyes, and whispered, “Windrunner.”

It took hours to sift through the results. The Windrunner family was a proud and prestigious one. Then, dated eight months before the Cataclysm, Jaina found the first thread. The rest unraveled soon after. Lireesa Windrunner, matriarch of the Windrunner clan and Ranger-General of Silvermoon, went missing while out on a hunt. After months of searching, the council of Silvermoon declared need of a new Ranger-General. The eldest daughter uninterested in politics, the title had fallen to the second daughter. Sylvanas.

The investigation stalled until, months later, an ambitious young politician named Arthas Menethil of Lordaeron arrived, claiming new evidence. Though circumstantial, the evidence appeared damning enough. Sylvanas had been stripped of her titles and holdings, and then banished from her homeland, branded the murderer of kin without a trial. She was expelled only a month before the Cataclysm.

Jaina read on, discovering that Sylvanas’ name was eventually cleared years later. Sylvanas, as far as the text showed, had never returned home.

“Oh, Sylvanas.” A traditional portrait accompanied the last article, four tall Quel’dorei women standing proud in their ceremonial armor. Despite everything, Jaina ached for the young woman in the picture.

Feeling contemplative, Jaina took her time returning the materials to their places. She still had more questions, but decided that the information she had would be enough. Maybe, even, she could move on.

Still lost in thought, she was startled to find her mother waiting outside, hands clasped behind her back. “Did you find what you needed?”

Unsure how much her mother knew, Jaina hesitated. “Yes.”

Katherine’s expression was indecipherable. “You can talk to me about it, you know.”

“I know.” Jaina also knew how protective her mother was. She began walking and her mother fell into step beside her. It was nearing dinner time.

“Through with the Menethil boy, then?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent news. A good leader never abandons their people.”

Though Jaina had defended Arthas on previous occasions, she was a decade past the starry-eyed infatuation she’d held for him at seventeen. “Yes,” she repeated instead.

“I knew not to believe that dreadful engagement announcement.”

“ _Mom_.”

***

Jaina only stayed another week. As much as she enjoyed the comfort of home, she knew she couldn’t run away forever. She had a life to get back to, and swore to herself she was done with romance and relationships for the foreseeable future.

School and her thesis on mass teleportation still waited. Though magic could be incredibly difficult to understand, its results usually made sense when done properly. She’d figure out mass teleportation before the next natural disaster, and the mass casualties of things like the Cataclysm would be a memory of less enlightened times.

Her advisor welcomed her back gratefully, almost immediately coaxing her into taking over his office hours. She laughed and accepted, because he was somehow even worse with people than she was. It was only a few hours twice a week.

The second day covering his office hours was an eventful one, with panicked students worrying about essays and ever-looming finals. Even so, when a knock came ten minutes past official hours, she was shaking her head before the student could speak.

“I’m afraid office hours are—” She shut her mouth with an audible snap.

Sylvanas closed the door behind herself, face an unreadable mask.

Jaina wished she could say she looked terrible or worn or any number of uncomplimentary adjectives, but the truth was, Sylvanas was as beautiful as ever. Stupid Quel’dorei genetics. “I have nothing to say to you,” she ground out between gritted teeth.

Still, Sylvanas didn’t speak.

Jaina sighed and attempted to focus back on her paperwork. She read the same sentence three times, and then her irritation reached its capacity. “By the gods, Sylvanas, why are you here? If it’s to apologize—”

“I don’t apologize.”

Jaina threw her pen down, already exhausted by her presence.

Before Jaina could tell Sylvanas to leave, she spoke again, her voice quieter. “I was hoping to… explain. Somewhat.”

Jaina pinched the bridge of her nose. “I did a little research,” she admitted, “I know what he accused you of. I can’t imagine what it cost you.”

“You have no idea,” Sylvanas confirmed in a hiss, her eyes blazing with fury. “Or how much worse it was to discover that he was a hypocrite. He took bribes to save Gallywix a few gold, and when the storms hit, his people died in droves for it! He murdered them for his own greed!”

Jaina was glad the door was shut, knowing it had muffled the shout some. She slowly released a breath. “Okay, Sylvanas. You’ve explained.” She was too tired to deal with this. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but Sylvanas was unrepentant. Their time together had clearly meant less than even Jaina could have guessed. “Please leave.”

For a moment, she wondered if maybe Sylvanas had more to say. The fury was gone, once again replaced with neutrality. “Very well,” came the formal response.

Jaina waited until the door clicked shut, and for as many moments after as she could spare. Then she let the tears fall, once again frustrated that she’d let Sylvanas get to her. She hadn’t cried since the first night, and it felt as if she might never stop.

It wasn’t until the warm hand cupped her face that she realized she wasn’t alone. She felt the disorienting sensation of her chair being turned, and then another hand landed on her neck.

“I’m sorry,” came the whisper, followed by a kiss to where a tear had fallen. “I’m sorry,” Sylvanas repeated as she chased another tear with her lips.

Jaina squeezed her eyes shut harder, and then both confident, elegant hands she knew as well as her own were tilting her head upward. She took a shuddering breath, and then she felt Sylvanas’ forehead come to rest on her own.

“Jaina. Forgive me. Please.”

Jaina sniffled and pulled back, finally opening her eyes. “Sylvanas Windrunner? Begging?”

“Yes.” Sylvanas face was serious as she met Jaina’s eyes. “I am.”

Still not trusting the moment, Jaina leaned back further. “Why? I’m just the little sl—”

“Don’t. I should never have said that. I was angry at how easy it was to be with you, knowing why you were really spending time with me. Or,” she rushed to correct, “thinking I knew.”

The words were nearly everything she’d wanted to hear. “Okay,” Jaina said, unable to endure more. “You’re forgiven.”

Sylvanas frowned and scrutinized her. “Just like that?”

Jaina gently tugged the hands from her face, and then checked her watch. “Yes. I’m tired. I should be getting home soon.”

“I…” Sylvanas got to her feet and extended Jaina a hesitant hand. “Will you come to the shop?”

Jaina accepted the hand but couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Sorry, it’s a very busy time of the year.” As much as she still ached around Sylvanas, she’d ignored her own warnings long enough.

“I see. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

Jaina stared at the door long after she left.

***

The next day, Jaina was surprised to arrive at her office and find a travel cup of coffee waiting on her desk. “Poor Lenara,” Jaina observed with a shake of her head. A similar cup appeared two more times on days she was receiving students. As much as she appreciated the caffeine, she didn’t want Lenara caught up in… whatever was happening. She resolved to get to her office early the next time to let her know.

Only, when the day arrived and Jaina was sorting through essays, she was surprised when Sylvanas opened the door, cup of coffee in hand.

Sylvanas didn’t react to her presence, quietly placing the cup down and turning to leave.

“Wait.” Jaina stood and rounded the desk. “You don’t have to keep doing this, you know.”

“I know.”

To her frustration, Sylvanas only reached for the door again.

“Okay. _Why_ are you doing this?’

“Words are cheap,” Sylvanas said after a pause. She remained facing away. “You are a practical woman, and I remember what you said, Jaina. _Flowers and candies only get in the way_.”

Jaina bit her lip, remembering the very morning she’d gone off on the traditional concepts of romantic gestures. She frowned when she realized something else. “Wait. Are you trying to woo me?”

Sylvanas clasped her hands behind her back. “More a… precursor to wooing. To see if you might be amenable to more, eventually.”

Jaina crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s been a while since you’ve done this, huh?”

Sylvanas turned her head and Jaina pretended not to be taken with her perfect, pierced profile. “If it truly bothers you, Jaina, all you need do is say the word, and I’ll stop.”

The familiar words made Jaina’s resolve begin to crumble. “I’m a very stubborn person.”

“As am I.”

“Then it seems we’re at an impasse.”

Sylvanas faced forward again. “One might think that, were you truly stubborn, then it would be only natural we should try again. Honestly, Jaina, giving up so soon?”

“Are you challenging me to date you?”

“Normal declarations seem to have little impact. You are a singular woman, Jaina Proudmoore.”

Unable to contain her mirth, Jaina laughed.

“And now you laugh. What a cruel woman you are.”

Jaina could hear the smile in her voice. “Fine.” She waited until Sylvanas once again looked her way. “I accept your challenge.”

Sylvanas’ eyes were noticeably brighter as she turned to fully face her. “Well, there’s only one way to seal a pact such as this.”

“Now it’s a pact, is it?” Jaina raised her eyebrows.

“Naturally,” Sylvanas said as she moved forward and carefully took Jaina’s hand. “I don’t make the same mistake twice,” she murmured as she pressed a kiss to the back of Jaina’s hand.

Throat thick with emotion, Jaina couldn’t resist when Sylvanas moved even closer. She leaned in first, and sighed into the softness of Sylvanas’ mouth. “See that you don’t.”

“I was thinking,” Sylvanas said after a pause. “A tattoo of a Thalassian phrase would look beautiful right here.” She trailed a finger down the side of Jaina’s neck and down her shoulder.

Jaina refused to be distracted by the ripple of pleasure the touch incited. “And what would this phrase say?”

“Daughter of the sea.”

“Hm.” Jaina stared at her. “But if it were in Thalassian, you could just as easily write _Property of Sylvanas Windrunner_ and I’d never know the difference.”

Sylvanas’ eyes lit up.

“ _No_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Special lack of thanks to Thrynne, who wasn't helpful at all and thought Sylvanas should work at "The Puss Ellipse Tattoo Parlor."
> 
> If any of you are following The Ranger, I'm working on an update to that next. Not much to do right now anyway lol.


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